


variables and constants

by AgentQutie



Series: 'cause everything is new (and everything is you) [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together, Post-Season/Series 01, implied Cisco Ramon/Lisa Snart - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentQutie/pseuds/AgentQutie
Summary: Five times Barry calls his or Len's apartment their home, and one time Len does.





	variables and constants

1.

It's not a thing, or it wouldn't be, if only Len could just stop thinking about it.

Weeks have passed since their first date, they've gone on a couple more since, and Len is still hopelessly stuck on the way Barry had said _home_. The worst part of it is, Barry hadn’t even made a big deal out of it. He'd said it so casually, and Len is left wondering whether he meant anything by or it was just a slip of the tongue that Barry didn't notice.

There are, Len supposes, elements in his relationship with Barry that could qualify as _domestic_. The quiet mornings spent together, whether they just eat cereal (and protein bars, in Barry’s case), or in rare occasions have the time to cook up proper breakfast. The nights when they're too tired to do anything other than doze off on the couch, wrapped up in blankets and each other. The way it sometimes seems like there are more of Barry’s clothes in Len’s apartment than his own.

But _home_ , home is a tricky concept. Len’s terrified of it. And yet, he desperately wants Barry to say it again, so Len can know he meant it.

 

2.

Len’s already in bed -- honest to god in pajamas and glasses, the only light in the room coming from the nightstand lamp so he can read -- when the familiar blur he's come to identify as Barry appears.

But the blur doesn't immediately solidify into Barry, panting and flashing his smug grin as usual. It moves around for a moment longer, and only then slows down enough for Len to register Barry falling into bed next to him at the same time the suit hits the floor.

Len wasn't expecting Barry, but he's not about to complain. Barry crawls under the blankets, turns to the side so that he's facing Len. It's a silent request that Len complies to a little too quickly, putting his book and glasses away and shifting to mirror Barry’s position.

“Home sweet home,” Barry murmurs with a tired smile. He scoots closer to Len. “I missed you.”

And that's no accident or slip of the tongue. Len’s almost willing to believe it's a premeditated attack meant to completely incapacitate him, except Barry seems to have no idea what the hell he's doing to Len.

It strikes Len then that Barry ran to his apartment after what must have evidently been a tiring day just to sleep with him, in the literal sense. They had no plans to meet up that day. Barry’s not here to _do_ anything. He'd just rather sleep next to Len than in his own bed. And he said _home_ again.

Len presses his forehead to Barry’s shoulder to hide from the onslaught of emotion that hits him. He huffs out a shaky breath, almost a laugh, and pulls Barry into his arms. They haven't seen each other in a few days, so maybe that's why everything is so _much_ right now. But then again, if that's all it takes for Len to become a clingy mess, he's even more screwed than he realised.

Len keeps his voice low so it won't crack. “Go to sleep, Barry.”

 

3.

Team ups with the Flash are, despite Len’s best (or worst) intentions, a semi-regular occurrence these days. It's simple math, really; Cold and the Rogues live in Central, so if some meta with a lot less finesse than them turns it into a wasteland, that doesn't bode any better for them than it does for any other law-abiding citizen.

And everyone knows you can't leave it to the heroes to get shit done, or at least that was Lisa’s argument when Mardon asked her why she was so okay with this. Len thinks a certain Cisco Ramon might have something to do with his sister's willingness to work with Team Flash, but also she loves getting into these huge fights that make the news.

The rest of the Rogues take it in stride, mostly. It's not like they had to swear off their criminal activities. They still go about their business same as always, with a little bit of city-saving thrown into the mix.  If anything, they seem to be making friends with the STAR labs team, which Len would discourage, but he knows hypocrisy when it's staring him right in the face.

In the aftermath of these team ups, they migrate back to the labs. It's taken a lot for Team Flash to trust the Rogues not to trash the place for the hell of it, and it's taken even more for those members of the Rogues that were once locked away there to come back willingly. Somehow, it works.

Today's problem didn't require the entire Rogues gallery, so it's just Len and Lisa keeping company to Cisco in the labs while Caitlin sees to Barry’s injuries. They were not severe, least of all for someone with accelerated healing, but Len’s gut still twists with worry for every moment that passes and he doesn't see Barry whole and well.

Len grits his teeth and stares in the general direction of the med bay, willing Caitlin to hurry, pretending not to pay attention to Lisa and Cisco’s terrible flirting.

“Alright, guys.” Suddenly Barry is there, back into civilian clothes and grinning tiredly. “Please, tell me we can call it a day.”

“We can call it a day,” Caitlin confirms as she follows Barry into the room.

“Saved the world once more,” Lisa says gleefully. “Celebration, anyone?”

“I'm in,” Cisco hurries to say.

The rest of them decide to pass probably at the exact same moment.

Barry quietly makes his way over to Len, wrapping an arm loosely around his waist. Len hums in contemplation and turns to face him, cupping Barry’s cheek with one hand. He'd meant to go in for a kiss, but he's caught staring at Barry, taking in the way he's almost glowing with purpose despite how tired (and famished) he must be. Barry makes the next move, wrapping his other arm around Len as well and pulling him into a hug.

Len returns the embrace with a quiet huff. “Good job today,” he murmurs into Barry’s ear.

“Yeah, you didn't do so bad for someone who insists he's not a hero, either,” Barry teases.

“Don't push it, Scarlet.”

“Yeah, okay.” Barry pulls away with a laugh, eyes gleaming. “You ready to go?”

“Let's,” Len agrees.

“Hey guys, Len and I are gonna head home,” Barry announces to the room, raising his voice a little to be heard over whatever little nerdy argument (“debate”, they'd say), Caitlin and Cisco are having while Lisa eggs them both on. “Good night, please don't call us again unless it's the end of the world.”

Barry grabs Len’s hand and goes, and Len allows himself to be dragged along because he's too shell-shocked to do much else. Lisa’s eyebrows dance in amusement, and Len shoots her a glare that's meant to silence her, but instead has her bursting into a fit of giggles. Caitlin and Cisco exchange slightly alarmed looks.

Good news: Len isn't the only one that Barry’s casual usage of ‘home’ makes an impression to. Bad news: Lisa’s never gonna let him hear the end of it now that she knows. Even worse news: it's the third time Barry’s said it now, so Len should be starting to get used to it, but his heart is still hammering wildly in his chest when they make it out of the labs.

One little word should not be able to affect him that much.

Eventually, Len’s mind catches up with him enough to pull Barry aside for that kiss he missed before, and he resolutely pushes all thoughts of _home_ and its implications away.

 

4.

The main reason he and Barry don't have keys to each other's apartments, Len suspects, is because they've never particularly needed them. If a need for them to get inside occurs when the other is not there to open the door, it's not like locks have ever stopped Captain Cold, and Barry can _phase through walls_ , so there's that.

Still, it's not exactly common that Barry will be in Len’s apartment when Len himself isn't there. Len estimates that to be fifty percent due to Barry being too busy to hang out in an empty apartment for no reason, and fifty percent due to Barry respecting Len’s astronomical trust issues.

(Not that Len would _mind_ Barry being around more often, or even all of the time, but that's another issue altogether and Len’s not touching it with a ten foot pole).

Len himself is a little more liberal about dropping in occasionally, whether Barry’s there or not. Most of the time it's just to grab something he forgot at Barry’s place, which lately has been happening in alarming rates. It's fine that all of his sweaters seem to have found a new home in Barry’s closet, but there are things that Len needs on him at all times.

Today though, there's a different reason for his unplanned visit. Len gets through the lock in seconds, easily familiar with it, and heads straight for the kitchen. They're supposed to meet tonight anyway, when Barry gets back from STAR labs, and since Len has the time, they might as well eat something other than takeout for once.

He's finished with the sauce and just waiting for the pasta to boil when he hears the door unlock, footsteps halting for a moment in the hallway before making for the kitchen.

“Hey, you're home early,” Barry says from the doorway.

The words match well with the setting. Maybe this time Len should have seen it coming, but that doesn't mean he's prepared. He takes a few moments to breathe slowly through his nose before throwing Barry a look over his shoulder.

(Len looks at Barry and thinks _home home home_ , and he feels deliriously happy).

“You too,” Len says evenly. He wasn't expecting Barry for another ten, twenty minutes at least.

Barry crosses the room to inspect Len’s work over his shoulder. “And you're making me food? Jesus, Len, I --”

Barry laughs and shakes it off, embarrassed, and Len can't for the life of him imagine what he meant to say.

“Who says this is for you?” he teases, and chuckles at the affronted look Barry gives him. “Alright, it might be. But only because Iris said you didn't have lunch, you _idiot._ "

“She's a traitor,” Barry pouts. “And since when do you and Iris talk, anyway?”

Len rolls his eyes. “We text. Mostly about what a mess you are.”

Barry snorts. “Gee, thanks.”

“You're so welcome.” Len kisses Barry on the cheek before he can think better of it. “Now shut up and grab a plate.”

 

5.

Len means it, is the thing, but he doesn't mean to _say_ it.

Generally, he's not a fan of making suggestions when he has no idea how someone will react to them, and Barry is steadfastly unpredictable. Sure, every night they spend at each other’s place and every morning that follows has Len wishing that it was a more permanent thing, but that's no reason to _mention_ it. It's embarrassing enough as is.

What happens is that it's late, and Len has a speedster on top of him and kissing him very thoroughly, so naturally his defenses are a little low.

“So I won't be able to see you Friday,” Barry murmurs apologetically between kisses. “But I can stay the weekend, and probably most of next week -- um, I mean, if that's okay of course --”

Len has to laugh. “Stay,” he tells Barry firmly, and then, because he's an idiot who deserves his fucking fate, he blurts out, “You might as well move in.”

Barry goes very very still. Len’s mind catches up with his mouth and he freezes too, barely managing to school his expression into something neutral as Barry stares at him, wide-eyed.

“You don't --” Barry shakes his head, smile rueful. “Ah, you're not serious.”

There's a better than good chance that Barry wants him to be, given his tone, so Len tries very hard to remember how talking works. His mind protests, especially at the thought of sincerity, but apparently this conversation is happening and Len would prefer not to screw it up.

“Actually, I am,” he says. “To be honest, only problem is I'm a little attached to your place as well, but. I wouldn't mind the whole…”

He waves a hand in a hopefully all-encompassing gesture.

“Yeah,” Barrh admits, breathing out a laugh. “I think I know what you mean. Not sure I can pick, either. But I…”

At his pause, Len raises an eyebrow encouragingly.

“I wanna live with you,” Barry says, earnest. “Have a home with you. Maybe -- maybe we could look for a new apartment? One that we chose together.”

There it is again, home, and with it the sharp-sweet sensation that Len can only possibly identify as longing. It catches him off guard, a little, how much he wants this.

Len drags both of his hands up into Barry’s hair and pulls him in for another kiss, because even if Len had the words to express this he doesn't think he would. But he thinks Barry gets it, anyway, and that's more thrilling than it's alarming.

Len breaks the kiss. “Let's do that,” he agrees, and he knows that his grin has slipped into something entirely too honest, more visible in his eyes than his mouth.

 

+1

It's amazing how many people volunteer to help you move when you're dating someone like Barry Allen.

Maybe it's that acts of kindness come spontaneously to them, or maybe it's just that all of Barry’s friends are overly invested in his dating life. They declined the help, both because Barry would be bored out of his mind waiting for them to do the job at normal speed when he could be done before they lifted a finger, and because Len wasn't eager to have anyone go through his stuff.

Besides, they're in mutual agreement they don't want anyone over for a good few days. Lisa had been desolate when they told her that. Len suspects she wanted to play interior designer.

“You and loverboy wanna christen the place, fine,” she'd said, pouting. “But after that, I'm throwing you a housewarming party.”

“Warm is not really my thing,” he'd drawled.

Lisa had just stared at him flatly. “Wow. That was comedy _gold_."

But she hadn't mentioned anything about parties of any kind since.

So they do the moving and unpacking on their own -- okay, in all fairness, Barry does the heavy lifting, but still, _still_. It means they're done so quickly that it's almost hubris, and Len’s not about to complain. When it's done, the apartment looks both familiar and not -- it's a little jarring, seeing how all the things they each brought along from their old places fit together. It's not bad, Len thinks. It's gonna take some getting used to, but he looks forward to it.

Given his line of work, he's had to move often. That's nothing new. But it's always been a cut and run thing. He's had to be able to disappear at a moment's notice, to leave everything behind and start over. It's not wise getting attached to any one place -- and so far he's managed to avoid it, unless Central City itself counts.

Now he suspects he's gonna have some trouble with that. But then, if he's totally honest with himself, it's not so much about the place as it is about Barry. Home is where the heart is, or so they say, and Len can't pretend he doesn't know where _that_ is.

The apartment has a balcony -- tiny and with a view that consists of other buildings, but there. Len goes outside, curls his hands around the railing and watches the cars passing on the street below. After a few minutes, he hears the door creak behind him, and without turning shuffles to the side to make room for Barry. Put a chair or table in the balcony and they'll barely both fit.

“Are you okay?” Barry asks.

“Fine,” Len says, and it's the truth. He steers Barry back inside with an arm around his waist and takes another look around. Not bad at all. “You?”

“Couldn't be much better,” Barry says with a laugh, but his smile turns soft.

“Yeah,” Len agrees. “Welcome home, Barry.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is gonna be a series, apparently. I have several ideas but I also have exams, yikes, so I don't know when the next part is coming.


End file.
